


sky turned black (like a perfect storm)

by LizMikaelson



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, He left, Multi, No sebastian, and idiots, because i hate him, just girls being gay, no landon, phosie endgame, set after 2 07
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizMikaelson/pseuds/LizMikaelson
Summary: “I want you to stay,” Josie says.And so Hope stays.orHope Mikaelson is trying to get used to being back. Penelope Park showing up in her dreams is absolutely the last thing she needs.
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman, Hope Mikaelson/Penelope Park, Hope Mikaelson/Penelope Park/Josie Saltzman, Penelope Park/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 95
Kudos: 364





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> this will be a phosie fic, so in case you skipped the tags: this is a phosie fic
> 
> all the thanks to my darling girl alex for her wonderful editing skills.

“I want you to stay,” Josie says.

And so Hope stays. 

Landon leaves. 

It probably says something about both of them, his inability to stay and her inability to leave. No matter how much has happened here, this school is her home now. 

She’s sticking around. Maybe she’s inherited her mother’s perseverance, maybe her father’s stubbornness. 

Either way, Hope stays. 

“You can both do better than that failed attempt at a pigeon,” Lizzie says when she drops back onto the bed with several quarts of ice cream. “Now, how about you both stop moping, get rid of Satan’s burn book, and we watch the feminist masterpiece that is Legally Blonde?”

And Hope should be sad, she knows that. And she is because what she and Landon had, before she jumped, was amazing, and she’s going to miss him. 

But she’s also finally,  _ finally _ back home, at the only place where she’s felt safe for the longest time, and as she falls back into the cushions and the twins argue about the popcorn, she can breathe a little easier. 

This feels like home. 

Adjusting to being back is almost deceptively easy. The teachers are the same, the classes are the same, and it’s almost like the last year never happened. 

Some things are different.

Rebekah and Freya call - a lot. Kol FacetTimes at the most random times, sending her cat videos in between calls. Rebekah sends clothes and Freya sends spell books, and they’re all trying. 

Her family has always been great at unconditional love, it’s just  _ how  _ they struggle with, the practicalities of living for the people you love instead of dying for them. 

She has friends now, which is still something she’s getting used to, if she’s being honest. Josie and Lizzie, M.G., Kaleb, they seek her out. 

M.G. talks her ear off about comic books, and it makes for a good distraction when her thoughts become too much. 

Kaleb’s got a wicked dry sense of humor that she can’t help but appreciate, and he doesn’t coddle her, doesn’t seem as worried about her as everyone else is. It’s reassuring. 

Lizzie brings her coffee, exactly how she drinks it and makes snarky jokes and ensures that Hope’s favorite cheese is always at breakfast. 

And Josie, Josie, Josie is complicated. Hope hurt her more than anyone else by keeping her identity secret. There’s something ironic about that because above anyone else, it was Josie who Hope was trying to protect. 

They’d been friends, and before Hope had disappeared, Josie had been the easiest person to talk to her, her warm smile and her kind eyes making Hope feel at ease. 

And now, Landon is gone, Hope is back, and the swirl of Josie’s dark magic is encased in an hourglass. 

And they’re both trying to fix things. 

It’s - well, it’s a lot of trying. As long as Lizzie or someone else is there, it’s not so bad. But when it’s just the two of them, there are all the things they don’t know how to talk about. Because Josie is hurt, and Hope’s choices are the reason why, and now they’re both hurting. 

It doesn’t really get easier until Hope wakes up in the middle of the night, and finds Josie in the kitchen when she’s going to get water.

“What are you doing?”

“Drowning my sorrows,” Josie says, leaning against the counter in far too tiny pajamas, a bottle of wine in her hand. For a moment, Hope wonders if she should leave, but then Josie holds the bottle out to her. “Want to join me?”

She’s not sure if it’s the darkness or the alcohol, but suddenly, it’s easier. They end up on the floor of the kitchen, their backs to the cabinets, passing the bottle between them, trading questions and answers. 

“Have you ever been scared of yourself?” Josie asks, and bites down on her lip a second later, looking like she’s about to take back the question. 

Hope interrupts her before she can. “All the time.”

“Really?”

“Jo, my father is known to be the Great Evil. I kidnapped my mother once. Who says I don’t turn out to be like him, at his worst?”

“You won’t,” Josie says. “I know you, Hope Mikaelson. You’re good.”

Hope hums. It’s not really- one can never be sure, but she’s trying. “So are you, Josie.”

“I did so much black magic while you were gone.”

“The evil son of hell manipulated you, Josie, and you made a mistake. That doesn’t make you a bad person.” She drinks another sip of the wine before turning to face the other witch. Looking at her out of the corner of her eyes hadn’t done Josie justice for  _ this _ kind of talk. “Being powerful makes us dangerous, but it’s still our choice what we do with that.”

“I’ve never thought of you as dangerous,” Josie says, leaning her head on Hope’s shoulder. 

“I am. So are you. It can be a good thing, too.”

Josie looks lighter, Hope thinks, and that makes her smile. This, at least, she can do. 

And after that, it’s easier, and they move on to simpler topics. An hour later, Josie has her legs in Hope’s lap and they’re asking each other silly, irrelevant questions their lives normally don’t leave time for.

“How many people have you had a crush on?” Josie asks, handing the bottle back to Hope. They should probably have glasses for what she’s sure is a twenty-dollar red that Caroline has hidden in the back of the pantry, but they’re teenagers and it’s the middle of the night. 

Besides, Josie is definitely tempting fate with this line of questioning, so that might be something better to focus on than the lack of wine glasses. 

“Three,” Hope replies, and Josie raises an eyebrow at her. 

“That’s not a lot.”

“You know I avoid people,” Hope shrugs. 

“Who?” Josie asks, “were the three people?” she clarifies.

Hope stares her down with a raised eyebrow. “The whole school knows about Roman and Landon. So, you just want to hear me say something Lizzie already told you.”

“Who says Lizzie told me anything?” Josie fires back. 

Hope laughs. “Anyone who’s ever met Lizzie. Come on, how long did it take her to break?”

“Two days,” Josie sighs, admitting defeat. “Though, of course, she didn’t tell me anything and I still want to hear you say it.”

Hope shakes her head, laughing. 

Josie pouts at her. “I’ve been broken up with twice in the last year. I deserve an ego boost.”

“Fine,” Hope laughs. “When we were fourteen, before you both totally stopped talking to me, I had the biggest crush on you and couldn’t stop thinking about your smile.”

“Past tense?” Josie pushes, “thinking about my smile?”

Hope steals the bottle back from her with a cheeky grin. “I’ve grown up,” she says, running her eyes over Josie’s legs in the most blatant, obvious way. She probably shouldn’t be checking out her friend like this, but it’s been a damn long year, and at least she’s making Josie laugh.

Josie giggles, and god, they’re both so drunk. 

It’s well after midnight by the time they stumble to Hope’s room, collapsing onto the bed. Josie makes them both drink a glass of water while Hope tries to convince her that Aunt Freya’a hangover cure will fix everything in the morning. She drinks the water anyway. 

She has a hard time saying no to Josie. 

Her dreams are still filled with Malivore, the months and months of darkness. 

Blackness and nothingness surrounding her. 

It’s what she’s expecting. 

Penelope fucking Park showing up in her dreams is decidedly unexpected. 

  
  



	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to my wonderful darling alex for her indispensable help and for making everything better

For a moment, Hope seriously considers if this is some kind of dark magic-jinx version of Penelope appearing to her because she was kind of flirting with Josie for about thirty seconds. 

She wouldn’t put that past Penelope. 

But as she looks around, taking in Penelope, taking in the room, which looks eerily like the rooms at Salvatore, and this all seems a little too real. Too vivid, too tangible. 

“This isn’t a dream,” she decides, and at the other end of the room, Penelope laughs. She’s lounging in one of the chairs, looking annoyingly relaxed. Hope kind of hates her for it. 

“I knew you were smart, wolfie.”

She cautiously observes her surroundings. “What is this, then?”

“A dreamscape.” Dreamscapes are meeting places for witches, a kind of advanced astral projection, possible over much further distances. And incredibly dangerous. 

“That’s incredibly dangerous magic.” Either one of them could get stuck here. “Especially considering phones exist.”

“Phones are for boring people. And humans.”

“Phones are for sane people.” Hope sits down on one of the chairs. “Why did you summon me into a dreamscape, Penelope?”

“No time for bitchy banter, wolfie? Again? You’re going to break my heart.”

“You did a good job of that yourself. I don’t think you need any more help in that regard.”

Whatever. She’s supposed to be sleeping. She doesn’t have to be nice. Penelope flinches, just for a second, and there’s something satisfying about being able to get under her skin. 

Hope watches as she pulls her cardigan tighter around herself. “So, the wolf doesn’t just bark, she bites. I thought saviours were supposed to be nice.”

“I’d probably save your life if I had to. That doesn’t mean I have to be nice to you.”

“Fair point, I suppose,” Penelope admits. 

“Why am I here, Penelope?” Hope repeats. 

“I need a witch. At Salvatore. Who can do a spell and not screw it up. And I was wracking my brain trying to figure out who I could ask, and then, suddenly, I remembered you. You have to tell me how you got back into my memories one day.”

“Josie brought them back,” Hope says. “And I’m not your errand girl.”

“She did?” A smile crosses Penelope’s face, and Hope remembers quite clearly, that Penelope might be annoying and manipulative, but she also really, really loves Josie. It’s obvious in the way her eyes go distant and in the way she seems easier, lighter, just at the thought of the siphoner.

“She did,” Hope confirms. “Now that I’ve updated you and hopefully sated your curiosity, I’d really like to leave.”

“It’s about the Merge,” Penelope interrupts, all business. “I have helpful information, and I’d like you to help me with the more practical, location-oriented side of things.”

She’s not as surprised as she should be. Penelope’s sudden departure had seemed odd, at least. The idea that she might still be out there, trying to help Josie doesn’t seem all that far-fetched. 

“If you tell Josie, Lizzie, or anyone else, the deal is off,” Penelope continues. “All information will be gone, and I’ll find a way to make even  _ your _ life hell.”

Hope tilts her head. “Did you consider doing this the normal way? Where you just ask me for help and don’t immediately resort to threats?  _ Hope, do you want to maybe help save your friends from a terrible fate?  _ Besides, we don’t have a deal.”

“Normal is boring,” Penelope repeats, “we’ve been over this. And I’d rather ensure you don’t suddenly decide to become miss blabby-mouth. Loose lips sink ships, or whatever. Better safe than sorry.”

“You have massive control issues,” Hope states.

“We all have issues. At least I didn't erase my own existence.”

Hope sputters at the sudden turn in conversation. “I was saving the world from a hell portal opening.”

“Sure you were, Cookie. And a smart girl like you couldn’t come up with any other solution?”

“Do not call me Cookie.”

“Just because Daddy sacrificed himself doesn’t mean you have to follow in his footsteps, Wolfie.”

Penelope smirks and Hope rolls her eyes, attempting to mask just how much Penelope’s last jibe had hit home. She’s not doing a good job at it. It’s the first time anyone has called her out on the elephant in the room - Hope’s willingness to sacrifice herself for everyone else. She swallows harshly. “You’re insufferable. What did Josie ever see in you?”

“I think she liked it when I wasn’t talking.” The suggestive, low tenor of Penelope’s voice is definitely not helpful. 

And she’s definitely not going to think about Penelope and Josie not talking. It’s none of her business. “Why should I believe that you can help? Caroline has been searching for years and hasn’t found anything.”

“I know both your family and the Salvatores like to blatantly disregard the witches who don’t constantly break the rules of magic-,”

“They keep trying to kill me,” Hope interrupts. “I find that to be off-putting.”

Penelope shrugs. “I’m not saying there haven’t been mistakes on both sides. I’m saying there are covens and connections and favours, and the people who won’t talk to Klaus Mikaelson’s lover, Stefan Salavatore’s widow, well, they’ll talk to me.”

That kind of maybe makes sense, actually. Not that Hope’s going to admit that. 

“The Travellers placed the curse,” Penelope looks serious now, “they’re the Geminis oldest foe. They were cursed by the more traditional witches, because they played fast and loose with their powers, and couldn’t use conventional magic. They took their revenge. A lot of revenge on a lot of covens.”

“How do we find them?”

“We don’t. Elena and Damon Salvatore killed them all. But they left their curses behind. I’ve found some people who have experience with unravelling them. I need more details on the curse though, so I need you to perform this spell.” 

With a flick of Penelope’s hand, a piece of parchment flies towards Hope. So this is why they’re here. Dreamscapes can be used to pass along objects, Hope remembers Freya telling her that once. 

She reaches for it, reading through the instructions quickly. The spell seems single enough, intended to reveal any curses on the subject. 

“The curse has to be tied to the twins,” Penelope explains, “since everything else connected to their coven is gone. So if you do this, it will give us a reading, details on the curse. Something we can use to unravel it.”

  
“Who’s we?” Hope presses.

Penelope shakes her head. “I can’t tell you all my secrets, Mikaelson.”

“So how do I know this isn’t a jinx? A belated breakup revenge plan?”

“”I’m not that petty. And it’s a fairly simple spell. If you’re worried, maybe do it on Lizzie.”

Hope raises an eyebrow and stays silent. 

“Look,” Penelope sighs, “I wouldn’t hurt Josie.”

“Now I know you’re lying,” Hope bites back. 

Penelope shakes her head, and there’s a small smile on her face. She looks impressed. “I thought you’d be nicer.”

“I am so sorry to disappoint,” Hope mutters. Sue her. Hell has made her grumpy, and she should be asleep right now. 

“I want Josie to live,” Penelope says, “that’s what I’ve always wanted. And I think you want that, too. So right now working with me is your best shot.”

She looks calm, like she couldn’t care less, but her left foot is tapping out a barely noticeable pattern on the floor and Hope thinks she might be nervous. Either way, she’s right. This is a shot worth taking. “Fine,” she concedes. “I’ll do the spell.”

A smile crosses Penelope’s face. “Excellent. I’ll see you here tomorrow night then. And I have your word that Josie won’t hear about this?” 

Hope nods. “For now. Not because of your terrible threats or because I think the twins don’t deserve to know, but because I don’t want to give them false hope in case this doesn’t work out.”

Penelope tilts her head. “I could have led with that, I guess.” Before Hope has the chance to reply, she raises her hand. “Until tomorrow, Wolfie. Sweet dreams.”

She wakes up with Josie still asleep next to her, and half-wishes that it had all been a really freaky dream, and knows that it wasn’t. There’s a piece of paper in her hand, an all-too- clear reminder of what she agreed to do with Penelope Park. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know your thoughts, maybe?


	3. three

Josie wakes up with a pounding headache and way, way too much light making its way into her eyes. 

“Kill the light,” she groans, and turns over, curling into Hope. Hope laughs, raising her hand, whispering a spell that has the shutters falling closed. 

“Headache, Jo?” Hope teases, but she at least has the decency to keep her voice quiet. 

“Stupid tribrid metabolism,” Josie grumbles. 

Hope’s fingers brush through her hair. “I’ll get you coffee,” she offers. 

“Yes, please,” Josie sighs. Hope disentangles herself, pressing a kiss to Josie’s forehead that has Josie’s stupid, foolish heart skipping a beat. 

She hears Hope move around the room and then the door opening and closing. Not again. Getting over Hope had already been difficult the last time and Josie is just setting herself up for more heartbreak here, she realizes groaning into the pillows.

She’s the girl who’s left behind, every single time, there’s no denying that. 

Penelope, even Landon, all the boys and girls who’d picked Lizzie. She can’t bear the thought of Hope leaving, too. 

Josie’s just not going to fall for anyone, ever again. Especially not for Hope. Especially not while she’s still a little bit mad at her. Not because of Landon. He’s gone, and everything that had happened with that mess had hurt Hope more than it had Josie. But Hope hadn’t trusted her enough to talk to her. She’d trusted her Dad, she’d trusted Lizzie, but not Josie. And that stings. 

Penelope would say Josie should forgive her.  _ “You can’t change the fact that she’s a self-sacrificing idiot who puts no value into her own happiness,”  _ Josie can almost hear her voice. Funny, that she’d been the one who’d tried so hard to change Josie, but would advocate acceptance of Hope’s walls. 

Josie misses her. Somewhere between the painfully loud headache and the dim rays of sunlight shining into Hope’s room, she can admit that. 

She misses the way Penelope had kissed her, like Josie was her whole damn world, the way she’d tangled their fingers together and pulled Josie close, and the way she’d been sarcastic and ice cold to everyone else, and soft and sweet with Josie. 

Penelope wouldn’t be intimidated by the dark magic. Wouldn’t be scared of Josie embracing her dark side. 

When Josie had told her about the fire, about her crush, about the rumors, she’d been so calm. Just kept tracing patterns over Josie’s body as Josie had stuttered through the story, shame laced in her words. 

“We’ve all made mistakes,” she’d said, “people are dumb when they’re in love love,” and kissed Josie in that way that made her forget about everything else. 

“At least you have taste,” she’d teased later, and launched into the story about her own first crush. He’d tried to break her heart and she’d made him regret it. 

Penelope’s calculating nature, her tight grasp on control and the world around her hadn’t come as a shock to Josie. But the fact that she’d been able to weaponize those things against Josie after the breakup, that had hurt like hell. 

Not that it matters anymore. Penelope is gone, and she’s probably long forgotten about Josie, moved on with some much prettier, stronger, less doomed European.

And Josie is here. Alone. In Hope’s bed. 

The door opens to reveal Hope, levitating two coffee cups, a glass with a very green concoction and fresh clothes. 

She smiles and Josie’s stupid heart skips another beat and fuck this, honestly. 

She’s falling way too hard and way too fast, again, and she’s not even over Penelope, and she really, really needs to get her heart under control if she has any hope of coming away from whatever this is with Hope unscathed. 

But despite her very messy feelings, the next days are easier. The unbearable weight on her relationship with Hope has lifted, and they’re talking again, and Josie had  _ missed _ that. 

They keep meeting in the kitchen. Josie hasn’t been sleeping well and she has the sneaking suspicion that Hope can’t sleep either. Sometimes they drink their way through Mom’s not-so-secret wine stash, but most of the time, they just talk. 

Hope teaches her how to make banana cream pie once. Josie doesn’t set the kitchen on fire, which is apparently more than Lizzie has ever managed.

Josie tells her about the dream where she’s buried underneath the ground, and Hope hums softly and runs her fingers through Josie’s hair and whispers  _ I’ll always come to find you.  _ That night, when she dreams, she breathes air rather than dirt and sees Penelope and Hope kneeling on the ground.

Hope doesn’t talk much about Malivore, but she mentions it sometimes, and she talks about her family. She misses them more than she can put into words. Josie can tell though. Can feel the emotions behind it all. 

It’s nice, their nights in the kitchen when the world is quiet around them. 

Josie starts wearing more skirts after the first night. Which has nothing at all to do with Hope. She just likes skirts. 

And the way that Hope blushes when Josie wears them, just the faintest tint of pink on her cheeks, well, Josie likes that, too. So, okay, maybe it has something to do with Hope. 

But it’s harmless. 

A harmless flirtation between friends. And the chance to fluster Hope Mikaelson. 

It goes pretty well for a few days, until Josie catches Hope staring at her legs in the middle of class, totally stumbling over the answer to the question Dorian asks her, and maybe, maybe Josie looks a little too self-satisfied when Hope catches her eye. 

She sees the moment that Hope realizes that Josie’s choice in her outfit of the day had perhaps been quite purposeful. Hope raises an eyebrow,  _ challenge accepted,  _ and Josie wonders what kind of trouble she’s gotten herself into. 

Hope shows up to breakfast in some kind of lace camisole under a leather jacket that has Josie very, very nearly spilling half her coffee. Lizzie looks between them when Hope sits down, shakes her head and proceeds not to say anything, which is somehow more daunting than Lizzie actually saying something. Instead, she steals M.G.’s pudding with an eye roll and launches into a list of the new events she’s planning for this year. 

“Don’t get hurt,” is all she says, later that night, when Josie is pulling her hair back into a ponytail, on her way to meet Hope in the kitchen. 

Josie doesn’t quite know to explain that for once, she’s not all that scared of getting hurt. Between monsters, Malivore, and the merge, between the image of Lizzie’s dead body that haunts her dreams, one more heartbreak doesn’t seem that bad. 

And no matter how the paradigms of their new friendship have changed, this time, Josie will be smart enough to safeguard her heart. Maybe. 

“I’ll be fine,” she promises Lizzie, who shakes her head.

“Make sure no one gets hurt, then,” is all she says before disappearing into the bathroom. It almost sounds like she means Hope, which is stupid. Hope is unattainable _ ,  _ forever out of reach, still in love with Landon - the list goes on. She’s not available, emotionally or otherwise. 

She shakes her head, and walks down the stairs to the kitchen, pushing Lizzie’s words out of her mind. 

Hope’s waiting. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretty penny for your thoughts, my darlings?


	4. four

During the course of the next week, Hope talks to Penelope three times, performs two spells on Josie and kills one monster. The monster, by far, is the easiest task. 

She’s a fairie who curses half the student population to horrible fates within a day. It takes Hope just as long to find countercurses and ban the fairy from this plane of existence. No big deal. 

A walk in the park, really. 

Secretly performing spells on Josie is a lot less fun, not only because Hope doesn’t love the moral dilemma, but also because Josie is a very attentive person. 

Hope almost gets caught seven times, which is a very bad ratio for two spells, she thinks. It doesn’t help that she and Josie seem to have entered into a very  _ touchy-feely  _ stage in their interactions, where Josie is constantly resting her chin on Hope’s shoulder and asking “what’s that?” 

By the time Josie drops into her lap while Hope is reading about the Gemini Coven in the library, she’s very convinced that the reason she’s going to turn into a tribrid is some kind of very gay heart attack. 

Josie’s wearing a skirt that barely hits mid-thigh and there’s a lot of  _ skin  _ and Hope feels a little bit out of breath. She also absolutely needs to distract Josie, so if she places her hand above Josie’s knee while silently transfiguring the books into tomes about magical salves, that’s simply necessary. 

There’s a hitch in Josie’s breathing when Hope’s hand touches bare skin, which Hope counts as a win. She’s not entirely sure when she and Josie started toeing the line between flirting and friendship, when they started playing this game of chicken. She knows this, though: it’s making Josie smile, laughter in her eyes when she manages to fluster Hope. 

It’s not like it’s serious. 

Hope knows that, better than Josie does. She knows that the love of Josie’s life is out there, working nonstop to find a cure, and once Penelope returns, Josie will get her happy ending. 

And Hope will go back to the way things were before. 

It’s going to be fine. 

If Penelope were as selfish and manipulative as she makes herself out to be, it might be different. But she isn’t. She’s out there, working non-stop to keep Josie alive. And no matter how crazy she drives Hope in the process, that kind of makes her a good person. 

A good, incredibly annoying person. 

Every single one of the conversations she has with Penelope Park is grating at best.

The first time, of course, Penelope tries to say thank you and walk away, presumably to continue to fix the Merge all on her own. “ Thanks, Mikaelson. Bye, Mikaelson.”

“Not so fast,” Hope tells her. 

It takes quite a bit of argument, but in the end, Penelope agrees to keep Hope updated and Hope agrees to continue keeping this a secret, for now. She still doesn’t love that, but dangling a carrot hanging on a very, very thin string of Hope in front of Josie and Lizzie seems even more cruel. 

So, they make a deal, Hope will continue doing the necessary spells, and Penelope will continue collecting information - and sharing it - and apart from the fact that Penelope is annoying as hell about it, it’s fine. 

The second time is worse. 

Penelope makes an off-hand comment about Landon and Hope says that he’s not at the school anymore. 

“Any new prospects, Mikaelson?” Penelope teases, in that annoying know-it-all tone of hers.

Hope snaps a little too fast. “None of your business, Park.”

Penelope raises a dramatic hand to her chest. “And here I thought we were friends.”

“We’re definitely not the kind of friends who talk about girls.” She bites down on her lower lip as soon as the words have slipped out, because she’s said too much and she knows it. She’s never made a big secret out of being bi, but with the way she avoids human company in general, it’s also not exactly general knowledge. 

“Girls?” Penelope questions, but before Hope can say anything to change the topic, feign a sudden crush on Alyssa Chang maybe, the expression on Penelope’s face changes. “Oh,” is all she says, and for a moment, her mask slips, and she looks so broken and vulnerable. 

Hope shakes her head, rather firmly. “No,” she says, “whatever you’re thinking, there’s nothing going on between us.”

“But you want it to be,” Penelope states. Her lips are drawn into a thin, tight line. “And I certainly never expected Josie to wait around for me. As much as I find you to be exasperating, Mikaelson, she could do a lot worse.”

“Josie loves you, Penelope. You leaving in order to save her doesn’t change that.” Hope clears her throat. This isn’t a subject she wants to linger on. “And this whole conversation is pointless and unnecessary. We’re here to find a way to fix the Merge.”

So they go back to talking about spells and magic and curses and covens. It’s the safer and more productive course of action.

The third time is definitely the one that annoys Hope the most. The downside of Penelope summoning her in the middle of the night is that Hope gets they’re straight from ger dreams.

Which wouldn’t be much of a problem, normally. Which is definitely a problem, though, because Hope has nightmares. She’s had them for years. Her Mom, burning in the sun. Her Dad, enveloped with darkness, a stake in his heart. The list goes on.

She has new ones now, after Malivore. Different ones. The darkness closing in around her. Loneliness. Emptiness. Every dream feels like eternity.

She stumbles and falls, when she loses her balances as soon and sees the dreamscape around her through a veil of darkness. She blinks, trying to push the memories of Malivore away, but every breath she takes feels like inhaling ice and she thinks she might be shivering. Fuck. 

Dreamscapes are not stable, and Hope, her emotions in uproar, is definitely a threat to this one. Which could end in them locked in here for ages, or drifting through space. Not good. 

“Oh shit,” she hears, so very faintly, and then there’s a bustle of noise and Penelope kneeling on the floor in front of her. “Wolfie. Wolfie. Hope, Hope, I need you to focus on me. Come on, you don’t want to be proven right about dreamscapes being a stupid meeting place.” There’s - Penelope has a nice voice, when she’s not delivering sniping sarcasm. 

Hope takes another ragged breath and slowly looks up. The world is still spinning around her, and the images of Malivore, the darkness closing in around her, feel all too persistent. 

“Look at me,” Penelope prompts, “come on, Wolfie, you got this.” Penelope’s eyes are green, and the color reminds Hope of the woods. She focuses on that, on the shades of color in Penelope’s eyes, and on her voice, unusually soft. 

“Just breathe with me, that’s great,” and Hope breathes, easier and easier, listening to the soothing tones of Penelope speaking. 

“I’m fine,” she manages, minutes or hours later, and around them, when she looks, the room has stopped shaking. She waits for the pity or the questions, and she doesn’t really have the patience to handle either. Instead, Penelope gets to her feet, holding a hand out towards Hope. 

Hope feels tense, nervous, in the sudden silence, but Penelope stays silent. 

“You’re not going to ask?” Hope questions, after several seconds. 

“Ask?”

“What happened? What I was dreaming?” She hates the questions, hates sessions with Emma, hates Alaric prodding her to share more, but she’s come to expect it. 

“Do you want to tell me?” Penelope asks her. 

“No,” Hope admits. 

Penelope shrugs. “We all have demons, Wolfie. I’m just happy you didn’t shatter the dreamscape. While I feel confident someone would have shown up to rescue you, I really wasn’t planning on another lob again this soon.”

It’s just the kind of distraction Hope needs. “Josie will find out we’re doing this eventually,” she reminds Penelope.

“I’ll hide behind you, Mikaelson.”

“I’ll duck,” Hope says, and feels a thousand pounds lighter. 

Penelope shakes her head. “You’re really disappointing me on the savior front, Mikaelson. I would make a lovely damsel in distress.”

“I told you, get an actual monster and I’ll consider it.” Her hands are still shaking a bit, and Penelope must notice, but she doesn’t comment. Instead, she launches into explaining everything else she’s found out about the travellers since their last meeting, and it’s something better to focus on than the constricting blackness of Malivore. 

Two days later, she finds what looks like half an art studio laid out on her bed. 

_ Don’t think this means we’re friends or anything, I just think you might be useful if monsters ever actually do attack me.  _ The note is signed with a dramtic, curvy P, and Hope has no idea how Penelope smuggled a bunch of art supplies into the school, let alone into Hope’s room, from another continent, but something about it makes her smile. 

Hope hasn’t painted since Malivore. It might be time to start again. 


	5. five

Hope Mikaelson is going to take up the family tradition of murder, she decides. 

She’ll start with Ric. 

Alyssa is next. 

The list can only continue. 

“What were you even thinking? Locking up teenagers because they had trouble with their powers?”

Alaric shrinks at her angry glare. Which is something. “I’m pretty sure that your funding is based on the concept of you helping kids, not locking them in a prison world.” She should know. Ric’s face means he’s well aware. “And then you butchered it so badly that Alyssa Chang decided that she should send us all here.” 

She spins around on her heel. “We’ve all done terrible things. I kidnapped my mother. Stefan Salvatore was a ripper and he turned his humanity on and off like a light switch.” She doesn’t mention Josie and Ethan’s arm, doesn’t mention the death spell she used against the dragon, she doesn’t - the list could go on. “You have no right to play judge and jury for everyone. You’re not God, Ric!”

The day only gets worse from there. 

Diego, the werewolf guy who’s been locked up here, crashes a car into Lizzie. 

The twins’ crazy uncle Kai shows up. 

The blonde vamp girl has her humanity turned off and keeps trying to eat people. Mainly the twins. Which Hope - isn’t good with. At all. 

She’s really not good with today, in any way. And it’s only going to keep repeating.

She’s especially not happy with the fucking prison world when she finds Josie with the Mora Miserium in her hands, cracks apparent on the glass, the sandclock raised high above her. 

“Jo, don’t.”

“You don’t understand,” Josie says and she looks lost, almost broken. 

“Explain, then,” she pleads. 

“Kai jumped into Malivore. He called me, he said that this would help us get out of here.”

Hope carefully steps closer. “Are you taking advice from a psychopath now?”

“He’s right,” Josie shrugs. “I can feel it. I can get us out of here, but I need my powers, all of them.” She shrugs, somehow looking both devastated and nonchalant. “I tried to be good, Hope. But to do this, I need to be powerful.”

Hope steps closer, almost of her own accord. Josie’s position turns defensive and Hope quickly stops in her tracks. “Don’t worry, I won’t stop you.” Josie relaxes, ever so slightly, even if the sandglass is still above her head. 

Josie’s hands are shaking. “Once Kai jumps, I won’t remember that I have to throw it to get us out of here.”

“You don’t have to choose,” she blurts out. “You can destroy the sandclock. You can be powerful and you can be good, Josie. Power is just power. The choices are yours to make.”

For the first time, Josie’s determination seems to waver at the reminder of their conversation in the kitchen, weeks and weeks ago. 

Hope presses on. “We can be dangerous and powerful and good, Jo. You can do this.”

“Kai said I had to become a monster.”

“Power doesn’t make you a monster, Josie. Or I would be one. Freya. Bonnie. You decide what you do with your power.”

“Are you sure I can do this?” Josie’s voice wavers. 

“I believe in you,” she promises. “I trust you.” Seconds later, the glass crashes to the ground and Josie follows after it. Hope crosses the room with quick strides until she’s at Josie’s side and it can only be seconds until Josie opens her eyes again, but they still feel like the longest seconds of Hope’s life. 

Her eyes are brown. There’s a thin glimmer of black, there, somewhere, but it’s so faint that Hope can barely see it. Her voice sounds more frantic than she’d like to admit. “Jo? Are you okay?”

Josie sits up slowly, rubbing her temples. “I’m okay, I think.” She clears her throat, meeting Hope’s gaze. “I can feel the power, but it feels like I can control it.”

Hope reaches out, her hands acting of their own accord, brushing a strand of hair from Josie’s face. Every movement feels electric. Josie smiles at her, shifting a little to press a kiss to Hope’s cheek. Her lips feel soft against Hope’s skin and if the gesture sends shivers down Hope’s spine, that’s her business and her business alone. 

“Thank you, Hope,” Josie says. 

She’s not blushing. If she is, it’s probably too dark in here for Josie to see it anyway, which means it doesn’t even count.

“We should probably go save the day,” she suggests, holding out her hand to help Josie to her feet. 

Josie saves the day. It’s a little bit intoxicating to watch. 

She turns the vampire’s - Jade’s (Hope should be nicer, it’s not her fault any of this happened) - humanity back on and Jade and Alaric work together to save Lizzie. It makes Hope shiver with concern - seeing Lizzie in so much danger - and she knows that her blood could probably heal her. It’s not what Lizzie wants though. But Jade and Ric save her. Thank god the vampire knew about the clamp. 

Josie explains that she’s going to siphon the prison world away. That everything here is magic and magic can be siphoned. Ric volunteers to stay behind. Hope’s very tempted to get Diego to stay in his place. No matter how angry she is at Alaric right now, no matter how much he deserves this, he’s still the twins’ father. 

In the end, though, the plan fails anyway and the prison world starts collapsing around them seconds after Josie has started the spell. Lizzie leaves, still shaky, and Wendy and Jade next, then Diego. 

“The world is breaking,” Josie calls out, “Alyssa must have done something.” White light is beaming around her and Hope knows they don’t have much time. 

“Let me stay,” she breathes out, “I’ll be the anchor. I can transform into a wolf, I’ll make it to Malivore and we know Malivore will spit me out.”

“No way,” Josie objects, her father nodding in agreement behind her. 

“You girls leave, I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll die,” she says. “There is no way a human can make it to Malivore in time.” It’s a split second decision, only a little push, and then it’s just her and Josie. 

Josie shakes her head, her breath strained from the spell. “Self-sacrificing idiot.”

Hope chuckles. “Guilty as charged.”

She kneels down in front of the other girl. “You can do this, I promise. Turn me into the anchor and I’ll go to Malivore and I’ll be back before you know it.” She cups Josie’s face in her hands. “I’ll be standing there asking for you to make everyone remember me almost as soon as you’re back.” They both know that she’s gambling, that Malivore is far away, even for a wolf and this world is collapsing fast. 

Later, she won’t be quite sure why she does it. Human weakness. Want. Maybe because she thinks it might be her last chance. She kisses Josie. Josie’s lips are soft against her own and she kisses Hope back with fiery intensity. 

Josie cheeks are flushed when they break apart. It’s a very good look on her, Hope thinks. She sounds a little bit breathless when she speaks. “Take my hand.” Hope places her hand above Josie’s own, on the ground. 

  
“Why?”

“Because no matter what the hero manual may say, you don’t just get to kiss people and run off to die. So you’re going to hold onto me and I’m going to get us both out of here. And since we have maybe half a second once I start until this world implodes, do not let go.”

“That seems dangerous, Jo,” Hope objects. 

“Safer than running through a collapsing world. Just don’t let go.”

Josie says words Hope can’t hear and then there’s nothing but white light. 

  
  


It feels like flying and crashing and seconds later, they’re on the floor of the Salvatore School hall, still wrapped around each other, only inches between them. The first thing Hope sees is Josie smiling at her, her eyes glittering with emotion. Hope wants to kiss her again. “It worked,” Josie whispers. 

The second thing Hope sees is Penelope Park, standing at the other end of the room, arguing with Alaric, her other hand outstretched to keep Alyssa Chang pinned against a wall. She looks impeccable, not a hair out of place. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to my darling girl alex for her wonderful edits. 
> 
> i know it's been a while, but any and all comments are much appreciated.


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